Never A Choice
by mkystich
Summary: How do you stop a murder when it's out of your hands? **ONE-SHOT**


**A/N: This small little one-shot came to me after reading a story called The Perfect Wife. In TPW there is a chapter where Bella is writing an essay in a very strange POV. I loved the idea so much that I had to write this. So this one-shot is dedicated to the brave rmcrms5. I feel it took a lot of balls to post a fic like The Perfect Wife, but I'm very glad she did.**

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Edward Cullen was the most renowned assassin in the world. He traveled the world searching for his targets, not because he was the best, but because he loved his job. I guess you could say it was a little twisted to find such fulfillment in killing people, but he didn't see it that way. He stopped seeing them as people a long time ago. They were just a job, a pay check, and he had no problem doing whatever it took to get that money.

The phone rang again, pulling Edward out of his daily workout routine. I sat against the wall and watched as he wiped the sweat off his brow, and walked calmly over to his cell phone. Even when it was only just the two of us, he always spoke in whisper. He nodded his head a few times and then asked how much. He let out a long whistle and smiled.

"Not a problem, sir. Just transfer the money to my off shore account, and it will be done."

He hung up his phone and tossed it on the counter, and turned toward me with a smile.

"Time to go to work."

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We drove around for hours, stopping at random places: coffee shop, bookstore, police station. Edward tensed up a little at the last location. The Mark, as Edward always called them, stayed there for quite awhile. She walked out eventually, hugged the officer, who walked her to her car, and then she drove off. I couldn't figure out why this young woman was marked in the first place. In every case before, there was a reason for the hit. There were drug traffickers, mob men, congressmen, and even a few abusive husbands, but this girl – this innocent beautiful girl – showed no reason to be marked. I could tell that Edward was starting to question it too.

By the end of the day we had reached the Mark's home, and watched as she got out of her car and went inside. Across the street from her home was a house for sale, and Edward decided that it was as good a place as any to set up shop. He easily broke into the house, and then came back to the car to get me and the rest of his equipment. We went upstairs and set up in front of the window, so we could watch her every move.

As Edward looked through the scope, I knew he was going to have a hard time with this one. This girl seemed like every boy's wet dream. She had changed since arriving home, going from a thin blue summer dress to an even thinner pair of pajamas. Even Edward adjusted himself when we saw her in the kitchen wearing a white tank-top and boy shorts. Her long dark brown hair, which was down before, was now held up by a small clip. She moved around the kitchen with ease, cooking dinner and even making a batch of cookies.

I could tell that Edward was starting to second guess himself. Every time he looked through the scope he would run his hand over his face, and then pinch the bridge of his nose. He would murmur words like 'Innocent' and 'Beautiful' while watching the young girl go about her nightly routine. He wasn't lying either, the girl was gorgeous, but I knew it was stupid to hope that she would be spared. Nobody was ever spared. I'd witnessed it every time. I had been there since day one.

Edward leaned into me as we looked out the second story window. We could see the Mark curled up in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace. She was asleep now, a book draped over her lap. She was so breathtaking, as the light from the fire made her skin glow like a sunset. I knew he was going to take the shot now. This was his way of being merciful. No pain, no witnesses in a crowded room, just pure silence.

He clicked the gun off safety, and pressed his eye to the scope.

He took a deep breath, and aimed the gun, not at her head, but at her heart. I could understand why. I wouldn't want to cause one blemish to that beautiful girl's face either.

He put his finger over the trigger and took another deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Bella," Edward whispered, as he pulled the trigger.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the scope. He didn't want to see the aftermath of our destruction, but I did. She hadn't moved, hadn't even woken up. She still sat in the overstuffed chair, curled up with her book, with a soft smile on her face. You could see the blood coming out of her chest, and dripping onto the floor, but I couldn't look away. I couldn't move from my spot on the window pane.

After a few minutes, Edward took out his cell phone, and dialed a number. "It's done," he simply said, and then hung up the phone.

I knew he was going to have a hard time after this one. It didn't happen a lot, but I could tell by the way he took me apart, and sat me back in my case that this hit was different. I wanted to call him an asshole, or at least ask him if it was worth it, but I couldn't. How could I? Guns never have a say about where you point and shoot them.

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**A/N: If I didn't make you go WTF then I suck royally, but if I did then I look forward to all the WTF reviews that I do hope I get. LOL. **

**Much Love,**

**Kris**


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